


Of Cannibals and Dick Pics

by chronicopheliac



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack, Dick Pics, Drunk Texting, DrunkenKissesChallenge, Embedded Images, Kinbaku, Kink Negotiation, Light BDSM, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Season/Series 02, Sexting, image-heavy, kissing under the influence, seriously there are real pictures of dicks here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-15 22:15:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7240612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chronicopheliac/pseuds/chronicopheliac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will buys a burner phone to anonymously text Hannibal, but he keeps doing it when he's kinda drunk.</p><p>Written for the #DrunkenKissesChallenge!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea and I had to do it, and I regret everything. Making the fake text images was a huge pain in the ass and I will never do it on this scale again! XD THAT BEING SAID, I'm still pretty proud of how this all turned out! (excuse my arbitrary image sizes and how I cut them, I had a lot of trouble getting the app to work properly!)
> 
> I put this in the tags, but I would like to reiterate: There are embedded images in this fic, quite a few of them in each installment, and later on there are going to be pictures of real dicks included in some of the messages!
> 
> A million, million thank yous go out to [Devereauxs_Disease](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Devereauxs_Disease) for the INCREDIBLE AMOUNT OF HELP SHE GAVE ME while I was writing this nonsense. You are the best <3

## Wednesday night, Wolf Trap

It was a terrible idea.

He _knew_ it was a terrible idea. But it came to him like a flash of brilliance, and he couldn’t get it out of his mind, and now here he was opening up the package for a burner phone, once again failing to consider his life choices.

Another finger of whiskey burned down Will’s throat as he tossed it back for a bit of liquid courage. Once he had the phone set up, he saved only one number in his contacts: Hannibal Lecter’s. He was at least lucid enough not to use his real name, in case someone were to find the burner, and he chuckled to himself at his own cleverness.

After pouring himself another two… no, three fingers of whiskey, he settled into his chair with Winston at his feet, and sent the first message.

 

 

## Friday night, Wolf Trap

It was still a bad idea. For days he kept meaning to toss the burner and forget about it. It was the reasonable thing to do. The mature thing to do.

But Will also didn't expect Hannibal to answer his texts after he refused to reveal his identity. And Hannibal didn't say not to text him anymore, either, which was... interesting.

Will was curious to know how much further things could go, eager to push at the boundaries of Hannibal’s patience. Especially in the guise of a complete stranger. If he could get Hannibal to incriminate himself somehow, he could turn over the evidence to Jack, and they'd finally have caught the Chesapeake Ripper. Never mind that gaining the information anonymously would be inadmissible, that was a problem for future Will. Drunk Will needed to poke Hannibal.

 

Will felt a little flutter of excitement in his… chest. And certainly not anywhere else. He started tapping out a response, but deleted it. _That’s_ not what the point of this was. He tried again and growled in frustration. Everything he typed sounded far too suggestive, and he wasn’t quite drunk enough for that yet.

He poured himself more whiskey.

No other messages followed, but Will wasn’t done yet for the evening. He didn’t make a point of texting earlier just to have the conversation end there, so he made to send another message when his phone beeped again.

“Ah, shit!” He hadn’t meant to send that last one, he was trying to delete it - he felt like it didn’t mean what he thought it meant. He also thought maybe he was a little too drunk, now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be posting the rest of these over the next hour (depending on how long it takes me to format it LOL OH GLOB), since the only reason I split it up is because of how many images I ended up with. 41 total, if you're curious.
> 
> Dick pics in this section!

## Saturday Morning, Wolf Trap

Jack called at 6am with the location to a crime scene.

Will had a pounding headache, and a vague recollection of possibly embarrassing himself. As soon as he ended the call with Jack, he grabbed the burner phone from his nightstand and flicked through the messages from last night. It was worse than embarrassing, he was pretty sure everything he said had come across as _flirty_. He buried his face into his pillow and groaned.

If this was going to be evidence for Jack, he needed to keep better control of the conversation (and himself). He resolved to not let himself be under the influence when texting Hannibal anymore. No drinking and texting.

His only consolation was that Hannibal didn’t know it was him.

 

* * *

 

## Saturday Night, Wolf Trap

Later that night, after a long day of dealing with Jack and dead bodies, Will needed a drink. It was no wonder that Hannibal had said he had a big day ahead of him - the crime scene was a goddamn Ripper murder. The colossal asshole.

He poured himself some whiskey, feeling justified in not counting it toward his recent ‘no drinking and texting’ rule. It was just to take the edge off the day, and his frustration at Hannibal, and hardly an amount to be concerned over. He took out the burner phone and brought up his conversation with Hannibal, reading over the last few messages.

Hannibal had all but asked him to message again. At least, he wanted his ‘secret admirer’ to keep messaging him, because he was _interesting_. Something flared in Will’s gut that felt a lot like jealousy, which was absurd for… a lot of reasons. Whatever. He topped up his glass, just a little, and tapped at the screen.

“Asshole.” Will clenched his hand around the phone. What a jerk, acting all concerned about him when he had just left him that _gift_ to be found early in the morning.

Except that to Hannibal, Will was a stranger. The ‘secret admirer’. But did that make Hannibal’s concern better or worse? He tried not to think about it.

Despite his defensiveness, Will got up and made himself a sandwich, if only to shake off the way Hannibal’s question made him feel. 

_Aren’t you lonely?_

There was no way Hannibal was lonely, he was just playing a game, as he always did. Better to disregard the question, and deny Hannibal that particular satisfaction. After pouring himself another drink, Will flopped back down on his chair and munched on his sandwich with no small amount of petulance.

Maybe that last message wasn’t the best idea. They were playing a game, sure, but somehow the text still sounded… coy. A second drink was also a bad plan, but he needed something to wash down the sandwich, and he was supposed to be getting comfortable. Dammit. 

Now they were getting somewhere. Will shimmied down in his bed to get even more comfortable, clutching the phone a little harder than necessary. He bit his lower lip as he tapped out a reply.

_Oh shit._

That was… unexpected. He felt a little twitch between his legs and tutted at himself as though admonishing himself might change his reaction.

Another drink was necessary.

_Shit shit shit._

Now was the time to just stop this foolishness, Will knew. Just toss the phone once and for all, and go back to his original plan, his and Jack's.

He hesitated, nursing what was left of his whiskey.

## Monday Night, Wolf Trap

Nothing was going according to plan. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but Will still had the irrational _need_ to regain control somehow. Or at the very least, he wanted to catch Hannibal off guard, stir him up _somehow_ so that Will wouldn’t be the only one who felt… whatever the hell it was he was feeling.

This evening, he was armed with nothing but his wits and frustration.

Goddammit, he was making things difficult.

Will tried a different approach. 

_Shit_. That was kind of what it sounded like, wasn’t it? Was he coming off as jealous?

Well. Hannibal had no business being involved with anyone anyway.

He meant Alana. Will grinned with satisfaction.

This was probably getting out of hand.


	3. Chapter 3

## Wednesday afternoon, Quantico

 

* * *

 

## Wednesday Evening, Hannibal’s office

“You seem distracted today. Am I boring you, Doctor?”

“My apologies, Will, you are never boring.” Hannibal adjusted his posture to be more attentive, looking contrite. “I must admit that I am preoccupied.”

“Not very polite, being distracted during an appointment, Doctor.”

“You’re right, of course. I... began receiving some anonymous text messages recently that seem to be intended to unsettle me.”

“Are you unsettled?” Will’s expression remained neutral, but inside he felt smug.

“Not at all, but I do wonder who this messaging miscreant is.”

Will stood from his chair and began to pace the office, hands shoved in his pockets. “Any ideas?”

“A few. It seems that this individual may know me, or at least knows of me. I'm inclined to believe that it may be a patient of mine.”

Stopped in his tracks, Will did his best to look casual as he leaned a hand against the desk. “What makes you think that?”

“My line of work does lend itself to individuals who become focused on the person rather than the therapy, so it’s a likely possibility.”

“...Right.” Will began pacing again, his nerves unsettled as he distanced himself to walk along the bookcases. His heart was pounding and he reminded himself that there was no way Hannibal could know it was him, there was nothing to identify him.

Hannibal’s voice startled him out of his thoughts. “I thought it might be Mason Verger, actually.”

“ _Mason_?” Whatever smugness Will felt drained out of him as the idea filled him with rage, even though he knew it wasn’t Mason. That Hannibal would _assume_ it was Mason, even entertain the idea… that annoyed him for reasons he couldn't quite bring himself to comprehend. “What, is he sending you pictures of swine?”

“Not at all. But he does seem to have a rather unhealthy fixation on me due to his sister also being a patient of mine. We both know his particular interest in manipulation and playing games is pathological.”

“Yeah but--” Will cut himself off and leaned against the ladder, taking a deep breath.

“He seems to be trying to get me to incriminate myself, though to what end I cannot say.” Hannibal stood to go to his desk and rummaged through a drawer, infuriating Will with his relaxed demeanor. “It has been entertaining, to say the least.”

“Well at least you’re _entertained_ ,” Will said. It was difficult to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

“You must excuse me for a moment, Will, I need to use the restroom. Once again I must offer my apologies.”

“You seem to be apologizing a lot today, Doctor.”

“So I am,” Hannibal said as he left the room.

Pushing off the ladder, Will continued to walk around, collecting his thoughts. Hannibal didn’t suspect him, but he suspected Mason fucking Verger, of all people. In his mind he could see the pig farm, the warehouse where he imagined Hannibal, bound and hanging from a hook. But instead of Hannibal, it was Mason that was tied up, and Will watched the idiot smirk fade from Mason’s face as he slit his throat.

From his bag there was a beep, a message notification. It was the burner phone.

“What the fuck,” Will said aloud. He nearly ran to his bag to dig the phone out, unlocking the screen.

Will dropped the phone.

He recovered enough from his shock to drop to his knees and pick it up again, staring at the picture.

“No fucking way,” Will whispered, tapping on the picture to make it bigger. It was… impressive. He couldn’t tear his eyes away, fascinated by the cock ring. Had he just put that on now, or was he wearing it the whole time during their session? A mix of emotions warred in his chest, surprise, embarrassment, and a spike of that absurd jealousy that had him clenching his jaw.

The sound of the door announced Hannibal’s return and Will started, shoving the phone back into his bag in a panic. He stood up straight and tried his best not to look too guilty as he sat back down in his usual chair.

“I also thought it might be Mason due to the content of the messages,” Hannibal said, not acknowledging that there hadn’t been any break in their conversation. He settled back into his own chair and crossed his legs. “My secret admirer has been quite suggestive, but doesn’t seem to have any idea what he’s doing. Flying by the seat of his pants, one might say. Perhaps he lacks the courage to commit to a course of action.”

Another surge of anger came unbidden, further stirring up Will’s already turbulent mind. He bit into his cheek to keep himself from saying anything too stupid. “Well that’s just fascinating, Doctor. Good that you’ve got someone to keep you from being bored.”

Hannibal didn’t react to Will’s outburst, and instead steered the conversation back to the case, but Will was still seething by the time he left.

 

* * *

 

## Wednesday Evening - late, Wolf Trap

It was late by the time Will got home. He fed the dogs and let them out, and failed at keeping his mind wandering to thoughts of Hannibal’s dick. Whiskey was no help in turning his thoughts away, either. Instead he found himself picking up the phone and staring at the picture again as desire tingled up his spine and through his abdomen.

He sat back on his bed and squeezed his thighs together, reading through the message history before coming back to the picture, again and again.

Obviously, his terrible idea hadn’t panned out at all, but this _other_ thing that they've been doing, this... flirting thing, was far more interesting. And exciting. Sexy as hell, actually, and if trapping Hannibal wasn't going to work, he figured he might as well enjoy a different sort of conversation.

If he was going to really play along, though, he needed to reciprocate somehow. Well, maybe not needed to, but he wanted to. He really, really wanted to. But he wasn’t ready to… reveal himself quite yet, though it still made him angry to know that Hannibal assumed his ‘secret admirer’ was Mason. Refilling his drink, he settled against the pillows and opened up the browser on the burner phone.

It was rather surprising how difficult it was to find a picture that could be convincing, but he managed. He saved it to his phone and opened up his messages.

_Never mind, bad plan, now’s the time to stop, Graham._

That’s what his brain was saying, but his cock insisted that he continue.

Until that moment he had managed to stave off his hardon, but it came up in full force, so to speak, demanding his attention. Kicking aside the covers, he pushed down his boxers so the waistband was hooked just under his balls, to feel the pressure of the elastic against his body. It would be a little rougher if Hannibal tied him up with jute rope, he thought, but even the cotton fabric caused a hitch in his breath as he rolled his hips a little.

He adjusted his grip on the phone so he could use his other hand to take the edge off with long, languid strokes over his cock.

That night, Will slept better than he had in a long time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND THAT IS IT. I AM NEVER DOING THIS MANY TEXTING IMAGES IN ONE FIC EVER AGAIN I FREAKIN' SWEAR.
> 
> Love you all, thank you for reading!!!!

## Friday Night, Wolf Trap - Will’s driveway

The game Will had been playing the last couple of weeks was quite the interesting development. No matter which way Hannibal pushed, or what he predicted, Will was still always surprising him. It was incredibly pleasant.

Greater still was the thrill at the turn that their ‘anonymous’ conversations had taken, most often at Will’s curious whims. But Hannibal had decided enough was enough, no longer willing to wait for Will to reveal himself. It had become necessary to… expedite matters.

Hannibal stopped at the end of Will’s driveway, just beyond the line of sight from the house, and took out his mobile.

Hannibal pocketed his mobile and started up his car to drive the rest of the way up Will’s driveway. The dogs barked to announce his presence as he approached the front door, and Will appeared behind the screen door looking flushed and confused.

“Hannibal?” Will angled himself to look behind Hannibal as he opened the door, trying to make sense of Hannibal’s unexpected presence. “What are you doing here?”

There was no point in hesitating now, Hannibal thought, and he crowded Will into the house, letting the door slam behind them.

“What is your safeword, Will?”

“Wh-what?”

“Your safeword. You just texted it to me.”

The way Will’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion made Hannibal want to kiss the spot between them, to feel the crinkles under his lips.

“Oh? Uh, toolbox?”

“Good,” Hannibal said. “Turn around with your arms behind your back, please.”

“Wh-what? No! What are you--”

“You said you wanted me to do this, did you not?”

“How do you…?”

“It’s only important that I know. Now, do as I ask, Will.”

Will obeyed, though his jaw clenched, presumably to bite back some remark. Hannibal took a length of rope from his coat pocket, letting it unfurl before coiling it around Will’s wrists, then looping it upward along his arms and to his shoulders.

“I was right about the crimson. It looks delightful against your skin,” Hannibal said, pressing a kiss at the base of Will’s neck. Will inhaled sharply, leaning back just a little.

With Will’s arms bound, Hannibal maneuvered him to sit on the bed, touching a finger under Will’s chin to tilt his head up.

“Wait here for a moment.”

“Where else would I go?”

Hannibal smiled and went back out to his car to retrieve a bag from his trunk, setting it down at the foot of the bed when he returned.

“Are you feeling all right, Will?”

“I want the rest of my whiskey,” Will said, eyeing his half-finished glass on a side table next to an easychair. Hannibal took the glass and held it to Will’s lips, tilting it so Will could drink.

“And now?”

“Better.” He refused to meet Hannibal’s eyes.

Reaching into the bag, Hannibal pulled out a bottle of wine and went to the kitchen to find a glass and corkscrew.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“You know I like a glass of wine with my dinner, Will.”

“You’re finally going to eat me?” Will’s voice hitched at the end, strained.

“In a manner of speaking, yes, I intend to.”

Wine opened and poured, Hannibal lingered in the kitchen to drink his first glass, amused at Will’s dramatic and frustrated sighs drifting in from the other room. He poured himself a second glass and returned to the bedside, drinking half of it before setting the glass down on the nightstand.

He went to the bag he left on the floor to retrieve his scalpel, and he heard Will gasp when Hannibal brought it into view. Hannibal was pleasantly astonished that Will’s eyes were wide with fascination rather than fear. He was curious to know what Hannibal’s intentions were.

Hannibal knelt at Will’s feet and imposed himself between Will’s knees, bringing one hand up to rest at the back of Will’s neck to bring him down for a kiss. Their first kiss. It tasted of whiskey and wine and something else Hannibal couldn’t quite place, and he chased the flavour with his tongue, parting Will’s lips with an exploratory nudge.

Tasting Will was better than any flavour Hannibal had ever experienced, so much that he was reluctant to pull away, sucking and tugging at Will’s lower lip between his own teeth. Unable to resist drawing out the tension, Hannibal teased the edge of the blade at the base of Will’s throat, drawing it lightly down the centre of his chest to his abdomen, trailing kisses down the same path behind it.

“H-hannibal…”

“Hush, Will,” said Hannibal, straightening up to kiss Will again. He pulled the bottom edge of Will’s shirt down tight and sliced through the fabric with his scalpel in one swift motion, then moved to the sleeves to make it easier to remove the garment entirely.

Setting the scalpel aside, Hannibal tugged down Will’s boxer-briefs next, revealing a substantial erection that was… less familiar than expected. Hannibal frowned.

“Will.”

Will was panting, bent with his forehead resting on top of Hannibal’s head. “Yeah?”

“Your penis looks rather different than in the picture you sent me. Could it have been a trick of the light, perhaps?” He pulled back to look Will in the face, but Will turned his head to look anywhere else.

“I… may have. Uh. It wasn’t me. Sorry.”

“I see,” Hannibal said, bracing both hands on Will’s thighs with the intention to stand up. Will threw his full body weight forward and draped himself over Hannibal’s shoulder to stop him.

“Wait, Hannibal. That doesn’t mean I don’t want this. Or you,” Will spoke into the fabric of Hannibal’s jacket, but the contrition in his voice was clear. “I didn’t know you knew it was me. Sending the messages, I mean. I didn’t want to… reveal myself yet.”

With a heavy sigh, Hannibal pushed Will to sit back down on the bed, looking at his own hands still on Will’s thighs. “You wanted to surprise me.”

He felt Will nod against the back of his head, and then Will’s lips kissing his hair, nudging along the side of his face to urge him to look up. As soon as he did, Will pressed their lips together, tiny pecks to punctuate each whisper of ‘I’m sorry’.

“I surprised myself, too,” Will said with a grin, rolling his shoulders to draw Hannibal’s attention back to his predicament. “Now don’t leave me hanging, Hannibal. Please.”

Returning the grin with a toothy smile of his own, Hannibal tangled his fingers into Will’s hair with one hand as he slid the other up Will’s thigh. “At least not today,” he said against Will’s lips, and then he wrapped both arms around Will’s torso to toss him further up on the bed, climbing over him and capturing Will’s mouth in a deep, fervent kiss.

 

* * *

 

## Saturday Morning, Wolf Trap - Will’s bed

Everything hurt, but not in a bad way for once. Rolling onto his back, Will flexed his arms and legs, arching his back to feel the pleasant soreness in all his muscles. He turned his head to the side to see Hannibal still beside him, sleeping and unguarded, and Will grinned at the simultaneous urge to smother Hannibal in his sleep and wake him up with a blow job.

A different idea had him doing neither, instead reaching over to the nightstand on his side to grab the burner phone. He was careful as he shoved the comforter aside so the movement wouldn’t disturb Hannibal, and tugged down his underwear just enough to display his hardening cock, arranging it above the waistband so it lay against his abdomen.

It took a few tries, but he finally got a picture he was satisfied with, and sent it to Hannibal’s mobile before arranging himself back under the covers and against Hannibal’s side. Moments later, Hannibal’s phone beeped loudly in the room, and Hannibal stirred, blinking blearily in the early morning light.

“Morning,” Will said, kissing under Hannibal’s jaw.

“Good morning, Will.” Hannibal turned his head to meet Will’s lips, teasing his tongue along the seam of Will’s mouth.

“Aren’t you going to check your message?”

Hannibal grunted, but reached behind himself to grab at his phone on the nightstand, bringing it up to unlock the screen.

After several seconds, he moved the phone aside to look at Will with a raised eyebrow, and Will shrugged in response.

“Good morning,” Hannibal repeated, and rolled on top of Will as he tossed his phone aside, smothering him with kisses.

Will laughed and wrapped his limbs around Hannibal, trapping him against his chest. “Mm-morning!”

**Author's Note:**

> [Come say hello or prompt me on tumblr!](http://chronicopheliac.tumblr.com)


End file.
